Tine Bealtaine
by flute-player56
Summary: A fic based on a wonderful poem that i read. It is unrequited love that is reflected upon during the Battle of Hogwarts. REVIEWS PLEASE!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello all**

**I know i've been terrible and haven't uploaded in a long time, but like many of you i lead a life which is busy at the present. Whilst i am in the midst of a terrible writer's block for my other fic "In Perpetuum", i did come up with this story after reading a particularly poignant poem online.**

**At the time, i wrote down the actual poem, but not its name or who wrote it. Unfortunately i haven't been able to find it again to give any credit to its author. **

**Therefore, credit is due to J.K. Rowling for her characters, and the mystery person who wrote the fantastic poem which i have borrowed for this fic.**

**Hope you enjoy my work, and as always REVIEW, REVIEW REVIEW!**

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

_There is a war going on_

_In a faraway land_

_As the good and the evil_

_Take the last stand_

Hogwarts stood still.

Not a bird could be seen gracing the sky, nor a flower delighting the ground.

A distant rumble of thunder resounded across the overcast sky as the shadows twisted their way around the ruins.

In the momentary reprieve from the battle, Hermione was almost able to hear the beating of her heart against her ribcage.

The emptiness she felt was not due to the fact that she had not eaten in many hours, although the hunger and subsequent light-headedness was ever-present in her consciousness.

She lifted her arm absent-mindedly to wipe away a trickle of blood that had escaped from the cut above her brow.

She saw bodies – no, not bodies. They were people. They were still human beings. People that she loved; had shared her good fortune and good times with. People she now was sharing the less than good times with as she saw them being lifted onto stretchers and covered with white sheets.

She could also see a pale man with a pointed face. He scurried out of sight, not wishing to be seen.

She was quick to blame him, as she was quick to blame all those people. But really, it was all of them that did this.

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

_The evil have dark forces_

_To fight for their cause_

_But the good have the power_

_Of the last ancient sword_

The flash of silver hissed as it hit and sliced through flesh. Scarlet, venous blood spurted as he felt the drops of warmth hit the skin of his hand, so close had he been to the event.

Nagini's head had sailed through the air with a majestic quality before hitting the ground with a thud of victory.

The boy started down at the skin that covered the back of his hand, crimson creating a stark contrast against the smooth alabaster.

He envied the way in which they fought together. As one, for the greater good.

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

_As the dark forces march_

_Straight out of hell_

_Will they crush the good?_

_Only time will tell_

He heard the most terrible screams. It made him feel the intense pain that they were feeling. It was not the kind of pain that could be ignored. It demanded your attention at all times and ripped out your innards for display before you.

He looked over at the girl with brown eyes. Instead of blinking back tears, as many of the others were doing, she adopted a fierce expression. He had seen it once before, and that was in the moments before she had punched him in the face. The area of his face containing his nose tingled at the mere thought of the memory.

The screaming had stopped and the pungent smell of singed hair and clothes was more pronounced than ever. The crowds were moving. He felt an elbow hit the small of his back as he was pushed across the yard and up the stone stairs, into the great hall.

His silvery eyes darted around madly in an attempt to find her. Fortunately he was able to find her within moments.

Her wild hair was flicking out around her as she slashed and twirled her wand through the air. She was battling Aunt Bellatrix with the help of several others, and it was then that he truly feared for her life.

Sending a few spells in his aunt's direction, he was able to throw her off balance for a few moments, allowing the others to gain the upper hand.

He stood, mesmerised for a few seconds by the sheer power emanating from her. His Hermione.

He had long admitted his teasing and prodding of her was a way in which to gain her attention. He had also long admitted his feelings for her to himself.

He re-joined the battle, but it was mostly out of self-defence. His heart was no longer in it, it was with her.

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><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

_Or will good triumph evil_

_As they take up this fight?_

_Will light cut through darkness_

_Like a candle at night?_

"No!" Mrs Weasley cried, as a few students ran forwards, trying to come to her aid, "Get back! Get _back_! She is mine!"

Hermione watched on as Molly duelled Bellatrix with a passion that could only come from a mother.

She tore her eyes away for a few moments to survey the damage inflicted by the fighters.

Chocolate eyes locked into place with silver eyes. Hermione could not quite understand the feeling of relief that was now present in her body.

Was it relief that she was still alive and fighting? Or was it relief that _he_ was still alive?

She reluctantly tore her gaze away from him. She attempted to turn her attention away from him as well, however, she found that she was unable to.

It had been months since she had last seen him properly and she had to make sure that he was alright.

She dreaded to think of the punishment he and his family would have received after her escape from the manor.

Although he appeared more pale than ever, his eyes sill had determination, and she assuaged her apprehension with the knowledge that he was still fighting.

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><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

_So who will join you_

_As you take the last stand?_

_You must decide soon_

_For the world's in your hand_

For one last time, their eyes let cross the crowd of people in the Great Hall. The battle was so close to having ended.

More blood had been spilled on the stone floor than ever before. Similar to Draco and Hermione, the other participants of the battle were lined up against the wall.

Whilst staring into the silvery depths, Hermione wondered whether things could have been different. Would they have stood a chance?

Did they still have that chance now?

****

Draco broke the gaze. He could not stand it knowing that he could never have her.

He had hurt her too deeply and for too long. It would not be fair to even contemplate what they would be like if things had been different.

As the brilliant white sunlight flooded the room and the battle was won, Draco turned his back to them. He pushed his way past all those trying to get to The Boy Who Lived and crept out of the Hall, unseen.

It was time to move on.

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><p><strong>Before i forget, a quick note about the title.<strong>

**'Tine Bealtaine' is a phrase from the Irish language. It means May Fire, which i thought was appropriate given that the Battle of Hogwarts was in May and that the battle itself raged like a fire. It is also representative of the unrequited love between Draco and Hermione.**

**I got it from a song with the same title which i was listening to, purely by coincidence, at the same time whilst writing. It's by a band called Omnia and i suggest you check them out on YouTube :)**

**Happy Days xx**


	2. AN

**A big thank you to Liza Cobbler, who found the poem online.**

**It is Good v. Evil, by 'darkcard', from a site called 'Booksie'.**

**Hope you enjoyed the story xx**


	3. Author's Note

If you liked this story, please check out my new story "A Dance Through Thyme", and tell me what you think. If enough people are interested, I am willing to continue it :)

Many thanks xx


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